To Join Our Illustrious Brotherhood
by r4ven3
Summary: A one-shot, created from a series of hidden scenes which begins immediately after the meeting (in 4.05) where Harry and Ruth have a mild disagreement over Harry's use of the word, brotherhood, to describe a collective of Grid personnel. Ruth and Fiona decide to take things into their own hands.


With the meeting over – and Ruth still bewildered by Harry's insistence that a collective of Grid personnel be referred to as Our Illustrious Brotherhood - Ruth and Fiona found themselves huddled together, comparing notes. Now, the idea of huddling anywhere with Fiona was not something Ruth normally welcomed, but they needed a new field agent – and soon - and none of the men could decide from the names on offer. Within the space of five minutes, Ruth and Fiona had agreed that the most suitable applicant was Oscar Woodhouse.

"You talk to Harry, and I'll deal with Adam."

"And Zaf?"

"Leave him to me. He's a pushover when you smile at him like this," Fiona said, delivering her very best flirty smile.

In the end, Adam hadn't minded, since Fiona had broached the subject after sex. Ruth hadn't that same leverage with Harry, so she'd had to use logic and her considerable powers of persuasion.

"He was kicked out of three prestigious schools, including Eton," Harry had argued. "Hardly a team player."

"He speaks two languages which I don't speak."

"Oh, really? And what languages are they?" Harry had lifted one eyebrow, and looked at Ruth across his desk, his lips twisted in a sideways pout.

"Mandarin and Urdu."

"He enjoys extreme sports – white water kayaking, marathon swimming, and cave diving."

"I can't believe you think that's a negative. All spies are risk-takers. Take a look in the mirror, Harry."

"He's too young."

"He's 32."

"He's good-looking."

Ruth frowned at Harry across his desk. "In what way is that problematic?"

"It's represents a distraction."

"For whom?"

"For female staff."

"Fiona is happily married, and I'm …... I'm -"

"You're what, Ruth?"

"I'm beyond all that."

Harry again lifted an eyebrow. "I very much doubt that."

"How can you say that?"

"Because none of us are beyond all that, Ruth."

"Even you, Harry?"

"Even me."

"I'm sure you'll not be distracted by Mr Woodhouse."

Harry's smile – accompanied by extended eye contact - had fuelled Ruth for the remainder of the day. Three weeks later, Oscar Woodhouse joined the Section D `brotherhood'.

The girls in admin were all atwitter.

Oscar Woodhouse had curly dark hair, clear skin, and the bluest eyes Ruth had even seen. Although not as tall as Adam, he was broader and more athletic, and he wore confidence as comfortably as his charcoal grey suit and mauve tie. Although she and Fiona and the girls in admin immediately warmed to Oscar, and Zaf seemed to quite like him, it was clear that Adam had serious reservations, and that Harry regretted letting himself be won over by a pair of very blue eyes – eyes which were not Oscar's.

* * *

They all agreed that Thursday after work was the best time to officially welcome Oscar to the team, so drinks at the George it was.

"We thought you weren't coming." Adam was the first to spy their section head striding towards the bar. "Mine's a pint, thanks, Harry."

"And mine's a single malt …... neat, no ice. Thank you, Adam. I'll be at the table with ….." Harry's eyes wandered around the room until he saw familiar faces. "With our team," he finished, before he turned to join Zaf, Fiona, Malcolm and Colin at their table near the wall.

By the time Adam joined them with drinks for Fiona, Harry and himself, it was clear that the group were missing two prominent members of the team.

"The new boy not here?" Harry asked, looking around the room.

"He left just before you arrived," Colin offered.

Everyone at the table waited for Harry to ask the next question. Zaf looked at Adam, while Malcom and Fiona exchanged knowing glances.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Ruth not here?"

"She left with Oscar," Colin blurted out. "You just missed her."

"Ruth and Oscar? That's a strange pairing." Harry hid his disapointment behind his whiskey glass, which he lifted to his mouth, and took a serious sip.

"Oh, I don't know," Colin rattled on, unaware of the four pairs of eyes, willing him to shut up. "They seemed to have a lot to talk about."

Harry downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, and then stood, looking around the table. "Anyone for a top up?"

"Thanks, Harry. Mine's a beer."

"A pint for me, Harry."

"Perhaps a single malt for me."

"Adam, what about you?"

"Thanks, Harry. I'm sitting on this one."

"Fiona?"

"No thanks, Harry. I have to drive."

Harry didn't want to examine his feelings of disappointment. He preferred avoidance to asking himself why it was he suddenly felt so empty. All he knew was that any gathering of Grid personnel was happier …... more stimulating, more _right_ …... with Ruth present, and he didn't wish to ponder that for too long.

He decided that, despite Ruth's absence, he may as well try to enjoy himself, but it seemed that no amount of whiskey could dissolve the knot of jealousy which had taken up residence in his gut. He drank steadily until Malcolm called him a taxi, and then helped him into it, giving the taxi driver Harry's address.

Once home, Harry threw up in the upstairs toilet, and then washed his face, and fell on to his bed fully clothed. He fell asleep before he had a chance to think through the reasons behind his decision to drink too much that night. Were he to have done so, he would have explained it away by citing the stresses of his job, and the need to occasionally let his hair down.

* * *

Next morning, still feeling a little fuzzy around the edges, Harry was slow getting ready for work, and so was not the first person on the Grid. Nor was Ruth there before him. Oscar sat at his desk, head down, conducting background checks on a group of Syrian immigrants who had recently arrived in London.

Harry walked straight through the office area to the tea room, where he poured himself a large glass of water, and drank it all in one go. _I'm too old for long nights at the pub_, he thought, as he boiled the kettle to make himself a cup of tea.

"`Morning, Harry," Oscar said, grinning from ear to ear. "Good night, was it?"

Harry grunted. "Yours?"

"Very pleasant. Lovely woman, Ruth."

Harry left the tea room without making his tea. He hadn't wanted to punch Oscar this early in his (hopefully temporary) stay in Counter-terrorism.

* * *

Harry kept one eye on the files in front of him, and the other on Ruth's desk. She arrived at 8.30, which for her was incredibly late. He watched her as she turned on her computer, logged on, opened a program, tapped a few keys, and then headed to the printer. Not once had she looked at him. Harry decided that he was about to have a sulky day. That meant that he'd sit in his office and talk to no-one, bark at anyone who rang him, and just for fun, bawl out those who walked into his office without being summoned.

"Harry," said a familiar voice from his doorway.

"I didn't hear you knock." He couldn't possibly yell at Ruth, could he?

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

"Is there a problem, Ruth?" Against his wishes, Harry looked up into those eyes, and immediately forgot about being rude to his staff.

"I …... I feel a little uncomfortable talking about it here. Is there somewhere we can …... go? Somewhere we won't be disturbed."

He sighed heavily, wishing he didn't have to speak to her at all. "Follow me."

With that, he got up from his chair, grabbed his coat, and indicated that Ruth should do the same. "It'll be cold where we're going."

Five minutes later, they were standing side by side at the balustrade which ran along the street side of the roof balcony. They both leaned against the railing with their hands, looking across the skyline in front of them.

"I come up here when I need to think," he said.

"It's a good place …... for thinking."

"Yes, it is."

"A bit chilly though."

Neither looked at the other. They each stared across the rooftops to the grey sky beyond. Grey buildings; grey sky; grey streets; grey thoughts.

"I feel like an idiot," Ruth said quietly, after some minutes.

"You're never that, Ruth."

"I am. It was Fiona and I who decided that the Grid could do with some colour. That's why we both pushed for Oscar to join our team."

Harry waited, knowing there was more. He looked down at his hands, reddening with the cold. He'd left his gloves on his desk. He looked across at Ruth's hands to see hers were turning blue. As much as he wanted to cover her hands with his own, he resisted, gripping the railing tightly. He stuff his hands into his trousers pockets.

"Oscar has been giving me a lot of attention …... these past few days." Harry had noticed, but he didn't say so. "I thought …... I thought what any single woman would think. I was flattered."

Harry quickly looked down into her face to see her staring at the street far below.

"Last night we'd only been at the pub for a half hour or so when he asked me to dinner. I …... said yes. I don't get …... asked out much these days, so I believed I'd hit the jackpot. Nice-looking man. Talented. Charismatic. Then when we were eating our main course, I discovered the reason he was interested in me."

"If he hurt you in any way, Ruth -"

"No, it wasn't like that. He wanted to pick my brains. He wanted to find out about Fiona. He ….. he's interested in her, and wants to …... well, you know. He wanted my help in getting to know her better."

Harry stared at Ruth, shocked, but not all that surprised. "I hope you put him straight."

"I did. I told him he should drop it. He said that her being married to another field agent just added to the level of danger."

"Have you told Fiona?"

"No. I don't know how to broach the subject. She'll no doubt find it amusing, but Adam …... I don't even want to think about what Adam might do."

Harry took a long time to respond. He knew Ruth had confided in him for him to act, but first he had to make the correct decision. To his surprise, Oscar Woodhouse showed promise as a field agent, and it was his willingness to take risks which made him stand apart, but could also get him killed. If Adam didn't get to him first.

"Thank you …... for telling me, Ruth. I'll deal with it myself."

"But then Oscar will know I've discussed it with you."

"Is your relationship with him more important than your relationship with Fiona and Adam?"

Ruth shook her head. Harry noticed how miserable she looked, and without thinking about it, he removed one hand from his pocket, then reached out and covered her almost-blue hand with his own.

He watched her as she looked at his hand on hers, and then he thought better of it, and quickly removed his hand, uttering an embarrassed `sorry'.

"No, Harry," Ruth protested, reaching for his hand, and taking it in both of hers. "Your hands are lovely and warm, and mine are ….."

"Bloody freezing," he said, smiling down at her, relieved she hadn't been offended by his momentary boldness.

They held one another's eyes for a little longer than necessary, and Harry found himself wondering how it was possible for any man to resist the pull of those eyes.

"We'd better go in, Ruth," he said. _Before I do anything stupid_, he thought.

They disentangled their hands, and turned from the balustrade towards the door to the building.

* * *

"I've spoken to both Adam and Oscar," Harry said as he sat on the chair from the desk next to Ruth's. It was early evening, and they were the only staff left on the Grid. "You're right. Adam was furious about Oscar's interest in Fiona. He got a bit worked up, but thankfully stopped short of demanding pistols at dawn."

Ruth nodded.

"I decided to not consult Fiona, but as my section chief, I had to bring Adam into it. If Adam wants to tell her, then that's between the two of them. I don't want this turning into a circus."

Again Ruth nodded.

"And I've issued Oscar a warning. The words, `sexual' and `harrassment' gave him pause for thought. I'm thinking he may be more suited to working at 6, so I ran that by him, and he was happy with that." Harry stared across the darkened Grid at nothing in particular, while he thought about how much of his decision making he should be sharing with Ruth. "While in the field, Adam has met a young journalist called Joanna Portman, whom he suggests would make a fine field officer."

"He's mentioned her to me, too. Having her with us will address any gender imbalance and …... nor will she be hitting on Fiona."

Harry again looked at Ruth, and returned her smile with a twist of pursed lips.

"In a few weeks, when Joanna has passed all the tests, and completed her training, Oscar will no doubt be ready to face the challenges presented to him by becoming an operative with MI-6."

"And everyone on the Grid will again be happy."

Harry stood, and as he was about to leave, he turned towards Ruth, who already had her head down over some files.

"Ruth …..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"It …... it doesn't matter." He turned again to leave.

Ruth turned back to her work, but felt Harry stop, and slowly turn. She looked up to find him watching her. He smiled apologetically, and then his face became very serious. "You mentioned something about not being asked out very often these days, and as hard as I find that to believe -"

"Harry."

"What?"

"Say what you want to say." With her smiling up at him like that, he could barely think straight.

"Would you like to come for a drink, Ruth?"

"With you?"

"Yes, with me. We've both spent almost eleven hours here today. We need a break, and I'd like to take that break with you."

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I should catch up on the time I lost by being late this morning." _I shouldn't be having a drink – alone – with my boss._

"Your boss says you need to leave. With him."

Ruth looked up at him and her face broke into the softest and gentlest smile, and he felt compelled to return her smile.

"That's a yes, then?"

Ruth nodded.

He helped her with her coat, finding himself all fingers and thumbs. As she turned down her coat collar, his fingers brushed against hers, and he felt his stomach do a little flip. She accompanied him to his office, from where he gathered his own coat, phone and keys.

"There's just one condition," Ruth said quietly, as together they entered the lift. He busied himself with pressing the button for the ground floor.

"What's that?" Harry was sure he had stopped breathing.

"That you don't quizz me about some other woman on staff."

"The only interest I have in other women on my staff is strictly professional, Ruth."

"That's good," she replied.

Ruth smiled to herself as she absorbed the wider meaning in Harry's statement.

Harry leaned against the hand rail in the lift, and distracted himself by watching the floor numbers light up as the lift descended. He knew he was smiling, but he didn't care. The lift was about to spill them on to the ground floor when he chanced a glance at Ruth. She was watching him, and when their eyes met, they held the other's gaze.

Neither dared break the spell.

The lift doors opened on to the vast foyer of Thames House, and Ruth looked down, a blush slowly reddening her face. Harry thought it about the most endearing thing he had ever seen.

They stepped out of the lift together. Harry wanted to laugh aloud, and Ruth wanted to thump him on the arm.

They did neither.

They walked side by side through security, nodding goodnight to the security guard on duty. As they stepped together into the night, the back of his hand suddenly brushed against hers, and they each smiled into the dark night.

Very carefully, Harry placed his hand against Ruth's back, and steered her down the street, towards the lights of the small pub on the corner.


End file.
